


Intensely Passionate Busoms

by Cheeziswin



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Erotica, Fluff, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sibling Incest, y'all this is silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-20 10:27:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20226343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheeziswin/pseuds/Cheeziswin
Summary: Ford reads erotica and Stan (cough cough) helps him.





	Intensely Passionate Busoms

**Author's Note:**

> The tone of this makes no sense, folks! None at all! It's all over the place, man!

Stan can’t stop looking from the book in his brothers hands to the hard dick in his pants.

Ford had settled in next to him, flicked on the little light directly above their bed, and flipped to a marked page in his book. That’s normal. That’s their routine every night. 

What wasn’t quite normal was the way Ford keeps glancing over at him, a slight blush on his cheeks. Or the very unsubtle way he pulls the sheet over his crotch, which really does nothing, because it was as thin as paper. He can still see the bulge. Also that, despite the fact he didn’t have his glasses on, he could very easily make out a pair of bare titties on the front cover.

Stanley tries to leave it be, he really does. Tries to close his eyes and sleep. But the knowledge that his brother was casually reading erotica next to him like that’s just a normal thing to do was a bit too much to ignore. He keeps making blurry eye contact with the nipples on the cover.

“Are you trying to turn me on, or are you really just that oblivious?”

“Huh?” Ford replies eloquently.

“That answers that question.” Stan deadpans.

Ford looks at him like he’s a weirdo “What am I doing that would turn you on?”

“Are you serious?” Stan says, and props himself up on his elbow to reach over to his brothers wrist. He man-handles Fords hands so the book cover with the very prominent naked lady is towards Ford “You think I can’t see this?”

_ Now  _ he has the decency to look embarrassed, eyes widening and cheeks going more red. He clears his throat all proper like and gently pulls the book away from Stan “I didn’t think you would notice.”

He peeks over at Stan’s incredulous face.

“Clearly, I was wrong.”

“No shit, ya think?” Stan says, laughing.

“I apologize,” Ford’s cheeks color even more at that and he pointedly snaps the book closed as he turns to the alcove next to their bed “I’ll put it-”

Before he can set the book on the shelf, Stan grabs his wrist once more. Ford pauses with a grimace, and gives himself a second to prepare for Stan’s ribbing. He lets Stan pull his arm around so he’s facing him again. He gives a resigned frown to Stan’s mischievous gleam.

“Didn’t say ya had ta stop readin’.” Stan purrs exaggeratedly, and he softly slaps his hand onto Ford’s thigh, gives it a caress.

He furrows his brows curiously at Stan. Stan waggles his. 

Ford barks out a nervous laugh, shakes his head, and pulls the book back into his lap. He shimmies into a more comfortable position and finds his spot on the page. Stan takes the time to reach to the bedside and slip on his glasses.

Stan replaces his hand where it was on Ford’s thigh, just below his hip, and starts rubbing slowly up and down. He keeps rubbing as the silence stretches on. And on. Okay, is he really-

“I meant out loud, babe.” Stan gripes impatiently.

“I know you did!” Ford snaps even more impatiently.

“Then why aren’t you-”

“It’s too embarrassing, Stanley!” Ford’s voice cracks all over the place in that sentence, which Stan can’t help but snort at, and Ford responds with an indignant huff and pursed lips. Stan takes pity, rolls fully on his side to give Ford’s shoulder a kiss.

“Alright, fine,” Stan says against Ford’s skin, giving his shoulder a kiss again before resting his cheek on it and continuing “You can read in your head.”

Ford sighs in relief, shoulders untensing against Stan. Stan hums deep in his throat and resumes his languid massaging. He idly watches Ford’s eyes flit along the lines of the page, mouth moving unconsciously every once and again while he reads. It makes something flutter in Stan’s chest to see it, and he buries a smile into the crook of Ford’s neck. Then, to hurry things along, before his heart gets too sappy on him, he starts inching even closer to Ford’s dick.

He can feel Ford’s thigh twitch in anticipation, and he grazes a thumb over a strained muscle. It relaxes under his touch, and he can hear Ford suck in a small breath when his palm finally closes over his dick. Stan turns his head to watch as he kneads Ford’s bulge softly, keeping his touch tender. He rolls his hand softly to the sound of Ford’s nearly silent mouthing of the words. Ford’s almost imperceptibly rolling his hips along with Stan’s ministrations, legs open wide to accommodate him and breath growing more ragged. He sees Ford squeeze his eyes shut for a moment out of the corner of his eye. He murmurs Stan’s name.

Stan hums once more, bordering on a growl, and grips Ford’s boxer shorts.

Ford turns the page as Stan yanks the boxers down and wraps his hand around Ford’s cock.

The grip he’s got is solid, but he’s slow as he jerks Ford’s dry member. Ford keeps reading, eyes heavily lidded and mouth hanging open slightly. He’s gone from muttering the words aloud to biting and licking his lips as Stan strokes him unhurriedly, deliberately moving his hand up and down the shaft. Stan is leaving lazy kisses on Ford’s shoulder and watching his face, watching himself jerk his brother off, watching his body. Ford’s legs are very unsubtly squirming, and it’s not long before precome is leaking out of Ford’s tip, turning the soft sounds of skin against skin to the much more sharp sound of slick, obscene pumping. Ford is speeding up his reading, judging how his eyes are flitting across the page. But, still, he keeps the pace steady.

Until.

“Stan, faster.” Ford gasps out urgently.

Stan smirks. Stan obeys.

There’s no build up at all to it, he goes right from one to a hundred. His hand becomes a blur on Ford’s cock, the sound even more obscene now, and Stan stares as Ford’s mouth forms a very impressive O.

“Oh,  _ fuck _ .” Ford warbles out, and it almost seems like he regrets the command to speed up because his eyes snap closed and his head falls backward, novel entirely forgotten, falling from his hands. Ford lets out a wobbly, breathless moan which Stan can’t help but snort at.

“Real hard to read your book with your eyes closed.” Stan teases without missing a beat in his jerking. Ford can’t even find it in him to open his eyes, only hisses out a high pitched ‘Shut up.’ One hand flies to the sheets, the other to Stan’s arm which is enthusiastically getting him off.

“Bossy.” Stan jokingly chides, and Ford only responds to him with a bunch of short, abortive  _ ah, ah, ahs _ that Stan can’t get enough of, and he watches as the muscles in Ford’s thighs and abdomen contract and flex, tightening with anticipation. Ford plants his feet and lifts his hips, chasing that pleasure, that burning delight, and Stan is with him all the way, stroking him as fast as he can manage, and Ford can feel it coming - he turns his head to the side and holds his breath, face going red, bearing through the overwhelming pressure, until it’s almost unbearable and he can’t handle it-

And then he cums, and all of his breath comes out in a long, drawn out moan, growing in volume until it cracks and his lungs are empty and he’s gasping. Stan strokes him right through it, staring at him reverently, as his cum paints his chest and Stan’s hand.

His thighs are quaking unbidden to him and he feels lightheaded from holding his breath. He blinks his watery eyes open and stares at the ceiling. Stan’s face comes into view over him and he smiles dopily. He takes his hand - which is a little stiff from his death grip on the sheets - and runs it over Stan’s scalp. It slides smoothly to the back of his head and he pulls Stan down into a kiss. His lips lock with Stan’s sweetly, fingers caressing the back of Stan’s head. It lasts for a moment before Stan pulls away, a blush on his cheeks. He looks happy. He looks sleepy. 

“I’m sorry I kept you up with my reading.” Ford says sincerely. He punctuates it by an affectionate scratch to Stan’s head. 

Stan averts his eyes, a lopsided smile on his face, and in typical Stan “Can’t Handle Intimacy” Pines fashion, ruins the moment.

“You got cum on your book.”

**Author's Note:**

> Bonus: Ford yelling SHIT at the top of his lungs and breaking Stan's entire ears
> 
> (Also, this fic is my attempt at not caring how my writing comes out. I'm trying to be less of a critical perfectionist to my own work, and trying to stop obsessively going back to change and rearrange things - so if it seems weird, that's why. I didn't really proofread this lol)


End file.
